Hunted
by Marianne H. Stillie
Summary: On a special mission for the SGC, Jonas Quinn finds out what Nirrti meant when she told him he was different from ordinary humans.


Title: Hunted

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Alternate Reality, Drama, Romance

Rating: T

Pairing: Jonas/Cassie

Series: Jonas and Cassandra: Their Story

Season: 7

Sequel: Beginnings

Summary: On a special mission for the SGC, Jonas Quinn finds out what Nirrti meant when she told him he was different from ordinary humans.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Copyright  2005 Marianne H. Stillie

* * *

Hunted

The light of three full moons on P9N-167 brilliantly illuminated the Stargate and the open field all around it. As Jonas Quinn huddled behind a hillock thirty yards away, he cursed the innocent moonlight that was an open invitation to come and get him for whoever was after him.

He knew he had to keep moving. But to where? Every planet he'd chosen, of the hundreds of gate addresses he'd memorized, his pursuer had followed. He couldn't go back to the new Alpha site and compromise the still secret base. He couldn't dial Earth and risk an unknown threat getting through to the SGC.

He'd been running for three days and he was exhausted. The few hours of sleep and minimal food and water he'd been able to get had weakened him. The new pain in his side was quickly seeping into every nerve and up to his brain. The hand he put inside his shirt came away warm and wet. As he'd slid down the embankment to this tiny concealed space, he had collided with something, a splintered tree limb or jagged-edged piece of stone. The ripped skin and flowing blood weren't the only damage.

Breathing painfully, he leaned against the hard-packed soil. He struggled to get up, but his legs wouldn't lift his weight. The shadows around him began to blur.

"Cassie," he whispered and everything went dark.

* * *

Cassandra Fraiser carefully looped the string onto the stem of the red crystal goblet and let the hangtag dangle. She'd been tagging the delicate cache of artifacts SG-13 had brought back to the SGC for the past week. Glass, of any kind, was a rare find on former Goa'uld worlds. These unbroken crystal pieces were a first. 

She looked up as her stepfather walked into his office. "These pieces are so beautiful, Dad. It's too bad we can't display them somewhere on the base," Cassie said holding the goblet up to the light. A splash of red appeared across her hand.

"Yes, they are," Daniel Jackson said absently as he sat at his desk. He began writing in the notebook he'd left open when he'd been called to General Hammond's office. Almost immediately, he put the pen down, lowered his head and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.

"You look very tired," Cassie said in her most caring voice. "I know you're still not sleeping well without Mom. Why don't you head home a little early for a change?"

Daniel's jaw clenched at the direct reminder of his raw, unhealed grief. Picking up the pen again he started to write then stopped abruptly. Looking directly at Cassie, he said, "There's something else that's been keeping me awake. I told you about the three tretonin couriers who've been robbed over the past month?"

Cassie nodded recalling the convoluted arrangements the Tok'ra had insisted on to keep the base supplied with tretonin. Since the official break between the former allies three months ago, the tretonin was the only subject the two sides seemed able to communicate about on any level. "I thought the Tok'ra had figured out a way to get the next courier through with no problems?"

"Apparently not. All the others turned up within a few hours of being robbed. The fourth courier is now forty-eight hours overdue getting here and they have no idea what's happened to him."

"Are we that low on tretonin for Teal'c and the others?"

His voice very strained, Daniel said, "Cassie, the courier is Jonas."

The millennia-old crystal goblet slipped out of Cassie's hand and crashed to the concrete, spraying hundreds of slivers across the floor. "No," Cassie whispered pleadingly.

* * *

Daylight came suddenly into Jonas Quinn's perception even before he'd opened his eyes. After a few minutes of groggy confusion, he remembered. The steady throbbing of his injured side was a welcome confirmation that he was still alive. The pain was there but bearable. 

His innate super sensitivity had always given him a sharp insight into his own physical well-being. He'd always known when he was coming down with something or whether an injury was bad or safely in the process of mending. This was a good throbbing. He took a slow, deep breath and readjusted his body on the soft bed.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," a deep gravelly voice said from nearby.

Jonas slowly opened his eyes and stared at the rough-plastered white ceiling. Very carefully he turned his head toward the side of the room where the voice had originated.

Perched on a sturdy three-legged stool across the room was a man. His hard, callused hands were carefully cleaning a section of the deep gray body armor that was scattered on the floor. The man's most distinguishing feature, however, was his face. Jonas started to count the number of scars across the weathered skin.

"You're welcome," the man said with a clipped laugh as he began putting on the body armor.

"I didn't say anything, yet." After a few-second pause, Jonas said, "So, I guess I have you to thank for rescuing me out there."

"Good guess." Finished with his re-armor routine, the man went to a small table beside the fireplace. He poured some liquid from a vial into a ceramic cup and brought it to Jonas.

Sniffing the contents cautiously, Jonas looked at his rescuer. "What is this?"

"Painkiller. The local healer said you were going to need it until your broken ribs are mended."

"Thanks, again," and he swallowed the bitter herbal-smelling concoction.

Resting his head back against the thick pillows, Jonas scanned the room. He quickly found what he was looking for. On top of his neatly piled clothes on the window seat was the heavy leather pouch he'd been carrying since he'd met with his Tok'ra contact on P2B-889. He sighed with relief, knowing that his precious cargo was safe.

"You've gone to a lot of trouble for a stranger. What do I owe you for all this?"

His scarred face devoid of any emotions, the man said, "We'll settle up later. I have some business to take care of. I'll have the innkeeper send up food."

Before Jonas could say another 'thank you', his inscrutable rescuer was out the door.

* * *

It was two days before his unknown rescuer returned. The safe, quiet time had enabled Jonas to begin healing and recover his strength. It had also given him more time to think. 

When Daniel had shown up unexpectedly on Kelowna a week ago he'd been surprised and pleased to see his friend back at work. The reason for his visit explained why he had come out of the deep grief he had been dealing with since Janet Fraiser's death. The SGC's supply of tretonin was getting very low. Without the specially refined drug, Teal'c, Bra'tac and numerous other Jaffa who no longer carried symbiotes would die.

Jonas quickly agreed to be the next courier. Like Daniel, saving lives was a deeply ingrained passion in his life. It would also give him a chance to be back doing the work he cared about with Stargate Command. He wasn't ashamed to admit that the months he'd been on Earth with that exceptional group of people had been the happiest and most fulfilling of his life. They were his friends and closer, now, than his own family. Each day back on Kelowna made him realize how much he missed the other life he had started to create away from his home world.

He had also acknowledged that he wanted to be part of the SGC again so he could be close to Cassie Fraiser. The time they'd spent together after her mother's death and the letters they'd exchanged over the past few weeks expressed more than just a simple friendship. There was a deeply intimate emotional connection between them that had evolved so naturally that neither of them had been aware of it. The tragic loss of Cassie's mother whom they both loved had opened a door.

He had questioned the propriety of his feelings because of the eleven-year age difference between them. He'd broached the subject in a roundabout way in his last letter to her. Her answer in the letter Daniel had delivered was very direct and blunt and he'd laughed at the profanity his sweet Cassandra was capable of under certain circumstances.

Looking around the safe, comfortable room his rescuer had provided for him, he decided that it was time for him to come out of hiding. He had to get home to Earth and soon. The rest of his life was there, waiting for him.

The door suddenly opened and the heavily muscled stranger walked in. "Get your things together. We've got to get out of here, fast," the man said as he quickly gathered the few items he'd left behind two days ago.

"Why?" Jonas asked as he too gathered up his meager belongings including his Beretta and slipped on his jacket.

"My contacts here told me three people have been asking about you. I don't think you want to be found, am I right?"

"If they're the ones who've been chasing me, no." Jonas put the long pouch strap around his body and followed the man out the door without further conversation.

* * *

The salmon pink setting sun glowed starkly on the sharp angles of the small spacecraft the stranger led him to on the outskirts of town. With easy, practiced efficiency Jonas strapped himself into the copilot seat as the engine sparked to life. After a short two minutes of warm-up, they were hovering above the ground and heading skyward. 

Once the ship was out of the planet's atmosphere and hurtling through the black starfield, the man sat back in his pilot chair. "I always enjoy depriving a cat of its dinner."

"Now that you've rescued me, again, I'd like to know the name of my savior."

The scarred face took on a less harsh expression as he laughed. "My list of talents has never included that auspicious honorific. I'd prefer if you didn't let it get out. It would ruin my reputation."

Jonas shook his head in frustration. "I can't ruin anything when I still don't know who you _are_."

An amused twinkle came into the usually intense stare. "My name's Aris Boch. Ring any bells?"

For Jonas the name was vaguely familiar, having read it somewhere. Then the 'somewhere' became clear and he pointed at the man. "PJ6-877. Four years ago, you and SG-1 had a little run-in over a Tok'ra. They won and Sokar lost."

"Sokar was furious about that till the day your friends took him out for good."

"Lucky for me you were here. Any chance you can get me to a safe Stargate planet? I really need to get home to Earth."

Emptying a small container of blue liquid into the canteen he'd taken from his utility belt, Aris explained, "My destination is a place called Kemia. It's a small planet not far from here and it has a gate."

"Those guys who are chasing me won't find us there?"

Aris engaged the hyperdrive from the console in front of him and smiled. "Not a chance," and he took a long drink from the canteen.

* * *

The trip to Kemia was relatively short as hyperspace trips go. Jonas took advantage of the time to pick the bounty hunter's brain about the state of things in the galaxy. Aris was unusually talkative when it came to the Goa'uld. He'd been able to give up the unsavory trade of bounty hunting because of the noticeably decreased Goa'uld influence in larger and larger areas. Even with Anubis causing problems, more and more worlds were open to visitation. The growing Jaffa resistance was seeing to that. He still did jobs for hire but mostly he bought and sold rare commodities or transported freight. It wasn't highly profitable but it kept him comfortable and supplied with roshna. 

Aris asked about the tretonin. When Jonas explained the source of the drug, the older man laughed heartily. It was a fitting end to the verminous creatures he agreed. He did pose a question Jonas promised he'd look into, if the tretonin could be adapted to help his roshna-addicted people.

The ship slipped out of hyperspace and headed for a blue-green planet. As the atmosphere cleared, the ground came up quickly. Having spent every summer until he was twenty on his grandparents' farm, Jonas recognized the precise patterns of planted fields and rows of cultivated trees on the property Aris' ship was heading toward on the surface of Kemia. Numerous barns, sheds, silos and corrals surrounded the large farmhouse.

A tall white-haired man waited as the ship touched ground. As soon as the door slid open, he came forward and greeted Aris with a strong handshake. "It's good to see you, old friend."

"You too, Logan. This is Jonas Quinn, a friend from Earth."

Jonas shook hands with Logan. He looked around at the fields and buildings admiringly. "I haven't seen a farm this large and prosperous in a long time. I'm impressed."

"Thank you. My family has been on this land for over ten generations. We were about to have our midday meal. Would you care to join us?"

Jonas laughed. "I never turn down food."

* * *

The rapid-fire conversation between the two men had finally ended along with the meal. Jonas had listened attentively to the stories and anecdotes Aris chronicled to bring his friend up to date about what was going on elsewhere in this part of the galaxy. The relaxed, friendly banter wasn't what he'd expected. Daniel's account of SG-1's previous encounter with his rescuer painted a starkly different image of the bounty hunter. The heart of gold they'd discovered at the end of their adventure with him had now expanded to include Good Samaritan rescues, for which Jonas was very grateful. 

As Logan's daughter-in-law Tia cleared the last of the dishes from the table she put her hand on his shoulder. "Father, I'll be with Isa for the remainder of the afternoon."

Logan covered her hand with his. "Tell her I'll be in to see her as soon as our business is concluded."

Tia nodded and went into the kitchen.

Aris' face took on a look of concern. "How is she doing?"

"Not well." Noticing Jonas' puzzled expression, Logan explained, "Isa is my late son's only child. She was born soon after his death from a fall. Unfortunately, she has been cursed with multiple health problems that have defied all forms of medical help. She will probably not live to see her sixth birthday."

"It must be very hard for you and her mother after already losing your son."

"The only hope left to us is a miracle."

Aris' naturally harsh voice broke into the sad silence. "I don't know anything about miracles but I'd like to see that new load of Goa'uld loot."

"Of course," and Logan quickly stood up.

* * *

The non-descript white building behind the main house could have passed for an ordinary barn, until you opened the heavy double doors. Inside was what Jonas could only describe as a mini museum. Shelves and stacks and tables of Goa'uld memorabilia covered every available space. 

He whistled loudly. "Where did all this come from?"

"There are caves and underground tunnels all over this star system. Each world has its own collection. What they don't want, they bring to me for sale off world," Logan said.

"The Goa'uld would be really pissed if they knew about this," Jonas said.

"The Goa'uld abandoned this sector centuries ago. It's the safest place to hide that I've ever found," Aris said. "I'm sure you've seen plenty of this junk. Why don't you just browse around while Logan and I haggle."

* * *

After going up and down several aisles, Jonas found himself on the other side of the building. He noticed a small room offset from the main room and his notorious curiosity made him go in. It was empty except for a long table placed against the inside wall. High, wide windows were set into the three outside walls allowing southern exposure sunlight to bathe the room from sunrise to sunset. 

He thought it was strange that this room was so devoid of any Goa'uld treasure like the piles in the main room. Then he noticed how carefully arranged the more than a dozen small to medium-sized objects were placed on the table. He'd been around different alien technologies enough to know that these weren't the ostentatiously decorated adornments or killing machines the Goa'uld favored. The simple configurations identified them as some of the rare gizmos, gadgets and magical machines left over from the time when the four races ruled the galaxy.

Several of the items were marked with Furling or Asgard script but most were clearly Ancient lettering. He picked up a large medallion on a long chain. The thick matte silver metal was covered in delicate scrollwork. He wished he had a magnifying glass with him.

As he held the piece closer to his face, he felt a warmth seep into his hand. It quickly spread up his arm, through his torso and down his lower body. The warmth became highly intense and concentrated around his damaged side. Heat began to penetrate deep into his body to the broken ribs.

The warmth suddenly changed to pain, sharp, hot, excruciating. It reached a height far beyond his usual pain threshold and he screamed in agony. He had already blacked out when he hit the floor.

* * *

Jonas woke up in another bed, in another room, this time surrounded by two anxious-looking people and a stone-faced ex-bounty hunter. His hand went protectively to his injured right side. After the horrible pain he'd experienced, he was surprised that the stiffness and soreness from before he passed out were gone. "What the hell just happened?" 

"We're so sorry, Mr. Quinn. We had no idea the device would react that way," Logan sputtered.

Sitting up, Jonas asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Logan, Tia, please wait downstairs. Jonas and I have some talking to do," Aris said, his voice very low and controlled.

As Logan and his daughter-in-law quickly left the room, Aris sat in a chair beside the bed.

Jonas' eyes had watched the bounty hunter with mounting suspicion. "You're the one who robbed the other couriers, aren't you?"

Aris nodded.

His rarely expressed temper flared as coincidences started to add up. "You set me up! I want to know how and why!"

Aris reached out and touched a spot behind Jonas' left ear. With a quick squeezing pressure from his fingers, he removed a tiny metal rod from under the younger man's skin. "When you met with the Tok'ra on P2B-889 you were tagged. I've used this to track all your movements along with my network of friends, spies and contacts."

"Why this elaborate rescue?"

"Actually, I hadn't planned on you getting hurt. But it worked to my benefit."

"Gee, thanks. But why me?"

"You're the one we need."

Laughing harshly, Jonas said, "How could you possibly know the SGC would send me on one of these missions?"

"If they were desperate, they'd want to send the best of the best and that would be SG-1. The problem is, your friends have become such a monumental pain in the micta and are so well known out here, there wouldn't be any secrecy."

"I'm not so well known so, of course, they'd ask me. Very clever. Well, now that you have me, what do you want me for?"

Holding out the medallion, Aris said, "Eggar told me you would be able to use this. That you were special and had the gift."

Jonas shook his head, part in fear of touching the device again, but also in apprehension. What did the telepathic Eggar from his encounter with Nirrti's gene altering experiments a year ago have to do with this piece of Ancient technology?

"He also said you can read this," and he put a rectangular piece of technology shaped like a handheld calculator on the bed along with the medallion. As he reached for the doorknob, Aris said, "Call me when you have more questions."

Jonas stared at the closing door then at the medallion. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what special gift he supposedly had. His only consolation was that, this time, it had to do with the Ancients and not Nirrti.

* * *

A little over an hour later Jonas emerged from the bedroom and went downstairs. He found Aris and Logan in the kitchen talking quietly at the table. Both men looked at him but with very different words in their eyes. Logan's expression was frightened and pleading. The usually unemotional Aris Boch showed a mixture of challenge and cynicism in his pale hazel eyes. 

Jonas sat at the table and placed the medallion and what he now knew was an information storage computer in front of him. "Eggar told you what these are?" he asked looking at Aris Boch.

"Only that the medallion is an Ancient healing device."

Turning to Logan, Jonas said gently, "And you thought it would give you a miracle."

The older man covered his face and sobbed.

"Can you use the device to heal Isa, or not?" Aris asked sternly.

"I don't know."

Aris let out a loud, disgusted breath and looked away.

"Please hear me out, then you'll understand."

Unable to sit still with all the conflicting emotions and information tumbling through his mind, Jonas started pacing the room. The bounty hunter glared at him as he moved.

"There's so much we still don't know about the Ancients. One thing we do know is that sometime in their past history their kind were empathic healers." Jonas' memories tugged sadly as he thought of the beautiful Ayana they had discovered in Antarctica and had known so briefly. It was another story for another time. This healing device and what he was going to do about it were the issues here and now.

He continued, "From what I learned," and he held up the hand computer, "the ability had begun to decrease in the general population. Only those with a specific gene structure could access the gift."

"And you have that gift," Logan said eagerly.

"Not exactly." Jonas went back to the table, put down the computer and picked up the medallion. "During the thousands of years since my ancestors were taken to Kelowna, our gene structure has changed. What just happened to me shouldn't have happened. The Ancient healers were only able to heal others, not themselves. When the device keyed itself to my brain, this," and he held up the medallion, "turned the latent ability inward when it sensed my own body's need for healing."

"But now that you're healed, you should be able to use the device for another's needs," Logan almost begged.

"That's just it. Because I'm different, I don't know what it will do. I could do harm and I don't think you want that, Logan."

The stricken look on the man's face was devastating.

Quickly Jonas explained, "I'll need to experiment. See what I can and can't do. But that will take time."

Aris Boch's rough voice filled the still air. "Isa doesn't have time." He took his knife from his utility belt and drew it across his forearm.

The cut was deep into the flesh, a cavern quickly filling with blood that began to overflow onto the table. The hard lines of his face showed no pain or fear even as the tanned skin turned pale.

"No!" Jonas yelled. In his human panic, he clutched the medallion with one hand and squeezed Aris' cut flesh together with the other.

Almost without volition, his mind was drawn into a calm, focused state. He felt a surge of energy flow from his body to Aris Boch's, surrounding the ripped flesh and severed blood vessels. Jonas could feel the bleeding decrease, then the cells began to regrow and mend under his hand. More and more of his body energy flowed into the wound. Seconds and minutes slipped by as he saw and felt the healing accelerate.

His body began to shake from all the energy being drained from it. As color returned to Aris' face, Jonas felt an increasing paleness in himself. He looked at the blood-covered arm and saw that the cut skin was completely whole again.

The energy drain stopped as suddenly as it had started. Sweating in exhaustion, Jonas drew his bloodstained hand away and reached out for the table to support him.

Aris grabbed Jonas just as the younger man's legs started to buckle. "The best of the best," he said with a knowing smile.

* * *

The morning had started out with a massive thunderstorm. It had drenched the farm, but by mid-afternoon the hot summer sun had soaked the moisture back up into the atmosphere. 

At the Stargate, Jonas adjusted the last of the four tretonin pouches on his shoulder. The large cloth carry bag that contained the new alien devices Logan had given him lay next to the DHD. "It's time for us to settle up, remember? How much do I owe you for the rescue?"

In an out of character gesture of respect and gratitude, the unsentimental ex-bounty hunter put his hand on Jonas' shoulder. "I've already been paid."

They both turned as the joyous shouts of a running child came toward them.

"Jonas!" Isa said as she threw herself at him.

He picked the little girl up in his arms. "You run too fast now for your mother and grandfather."

"I wanted to give you this," and she kissed his cheek, "and tell you how much I love you."

"Thank you, for both."

Tia and Logan arrived at the gate. "We hope you'll come back and visit as often as you can," Tia said with tears in her eyes.

Jonas handed the child to her mother. "I will."

"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" Logan asked.

"There are people waiting for me at home and I know they're very worried. Thanks for everything," he said as he began dialing the DHD.

* * *

The klaxons sounded throughout the secured levels of the base as George Hammond hurried to the control room. After seven years of commanding Cheyenne Mountain, he was used to worrying about all his people. This situation had weighed much more heavily. He couldn't bear another loss like the one last month that he and SG-1 were still suffering through. 

Sergeant Davis looked at him anxiously. "Offworld activation, unknown source, sir."

Both men waited for the signal they'd been hoping for. Then the monitor readout glowed with the words they wanted.

"It's Jonas!" Walter Davis shouted and everyone within earshot cheered.

* * *

General Hammond arrived in the Gate room just as the iris finished opening. He reminded himself of the promise he'd made to Daniel Jackson, that he'd call Cassie Fraiser as soon as there was any word about Jonas. He was grateful that the words would be good ones. 

When Jonas was at the bottom of the ramp, he held the bag out to the general. "I brought you some new alien toys. They should keep Dr. Jackson and Major Carter busy for quite awhile."

Taking the bag, Hammond extended his other hand. "Welcome home, son. In my office for a quick debriefing, then to the infirmary," he said brusquely to cover the intense gratitude he felt that his lost chick had gotten home safely.

"Yes, sir," Jonas said shaking the General's hand enthusiastically.

* * *

The infirmary wasn't the same without Janet Fraiser. Her warmth and caring had been so strong an influence that the place she used to oversee had become just a sterile, functional collection of rooms. 

Jonas needed her smile and her friendship very badly right now. What had happened to him on Kemia had changed his life forever and there was no going back to the Jonas Quinn he had been before. He felt the weightiness of the medallion against his chest.

"You come back for one simple mission and wind up in here," Cassie Fraiser said from behind him.

His easy smile became brighter than usual when he saw the palpable concern in her dark eyes. "According to Dr. Warner, I'm in perfect health. Not a scratch on me."

"Why don't I believe that," Cassie laughed. Moving closer, she said, "I hear you're going to be on base for a few days."

"General Hammond has a job offer for me. It seems the Alpha site needs a socio-political nerd to keep everyone on track."

"They need an _experienced_ socio-political nerd and that's definitely you. Do you want the job?"

Jonas' urgent need to confide in someone overcame his swirling doubts. "If you don't have any plans, I'd like to take you to dinner this evening. We can talk about it then."

Cassie stood very close to Jonas and looked up at him. "I have a better idea. Since it's New Year's Eve here on Earth and I have the house to myself, I'll whip up one of the famous Fraiser Italian dinners."

"Daniel?"

"He stayed for Christmas, for me. This he can't deal with, so he's off world on a dig."

A small tremor came into Cassie's usually confident voice, "The spare room has a real bed in it again. If we have too much to talk about and it gets too late, you can sleep there."

His heightened senses caught the meaning behind Cassie's invitation and he smiled. "We do have a lot of catching up to do."

"Yes, we do."

Both Cassie and Jonas felt the increasing heat their bodies were generating from such close proximity, steadily drawing them into each other.

"I'll make breakfast this time," she said softly and held out her hand.

There was only a breath's hesitation before Jonas wrapped his fingers around her inviting hand.

"I never turn down food," he laughed and pulled her close to his side as they left the infirmary.


End file.
